


Alcohol Problem

by penguingal



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-11
Updated: 2012-01-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6794011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguingal/pseuds/penguingal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Set during the recruiting runs alluded to in the movie.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Alcohol Problem

**Author's Note:**

> Set during the recruiting runs alluded to in the movie.

"A proper night out" is what Charles called it. Every time. They'd been on the road for two weeks, travelling around the country and matching mutants to the coordinates Cerebro had spit out for them. Those two weeks taught Erik a couple things. One, Charles was a terrible driver. And two, Charles was absolutely insufferable if he didn't get to have some downtime at regular intervals.

So, when Charles had urged him to follow him to the local bar at the latest little town they decided to stop in for the night, Erik hadn't protested.

"We need a proper night out, Erik," Charles said shortly after they deposited their belongings in their slightly dingy hotel room. "I think after all of this travelling that we deserve it. Don't you?"

"Charles, I agreed to come with you five minutes ago," Erik said. "You can stop coercing me. All I said was that I wanted to come in here and change my shirt before we went."

"I know," Charles said. "I suppose that I just want you to actually want to come."

"I never said I didn't want to come with you."

Charles tapped his temple briefly. "You didn't exactly have to, my friend."

"I admit, spending several hours in a bar is not my idea of how to relax, but it pleases you," Erik said, smirking at Charles. He quickly stripped his turtleneck in favor of a tight shirt with a slight V-neck. "And someone has to keep you out of trouble."

Grinning, Charles clapped Erik on the shoulder. "Let's go, then."

….

Erik had learned early on that American beer is fucking terrible. Far too often it looked like, and frankly smelled like, piss. As much as he might have preferred to avoid hard liquors on these excursions out, he generally considered it safer to nurse a martini than waste money on a beer he wouldn't give to a dog. Charles preferred Scotch, though he did still lament his inability to find a decent pint anywhere.

Usually Erik tried to subtly monitor how much Charles was drinking. It seemed to be something universally understood among their kind that too much alcohol was detrimental to being able to control their powers. He knew for a fact that Charles had never allowed Raven to drink at all. Yet somehow, that standard never applied to Charles himself.

Charles was always social, but tonight he was making friends quickly. Making friends meant buying and accepting drinks, and Erik lost track of how many Charles had. If Erik lost track then that meant there was absolutely no hope that Charles was minding his own limits.

The change in the crowd was subtle at first. The few couples on the floor started dancing a little closer, their hands wandering a little more boldly. In fact, everyone in the bar seemed to be hanging off of someone else, and increasingly it appeared that gender didn't matter. Erik himself felt loose-limbed and relaxed, except for the vague pulse of arousal running through him.

Frowning, Erik looked first at his drink to assure himself he hadn't imbibed more than he thought. His glass was still just over half full, which was good. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the bartender do _something_ before handing over two drinks. The drinks briefly changed color and then settled back into their normal appearance. If you weren't used to looking for the extraordinary, you'd never see it.

"Dammit," Erik swore. He got the bartender's attention.

"Something else I can get you, friend?"

The desire to grab the man by the front of his ugly shirt and drag him over the bar to force the truth out of him was nearly overwhelming, but some instinct for self-preservation kicked in. Or maybe Charles was rubbing off on him. Erik slipped a $20 from his pocket and slid it across the bar. It was the CIA's money, so it mattered little to him. "Information. Tell me what you're doing to the drinks."

The bartender glanced at the money. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Looking at the tumbler where the rest of his drink rested, Erik lifted it off the bar. It wobbled a little in the air, and Erik frowned. It was requiring too much effort to be able to accomplish what was really a simple task. Finally, he topped his drink off and set the tumbler down again. "I think you do," he said, glaring at the bartender. "What are you doing to the drinks?"

The bartender was staring at him, open-mouthed. "N-nothing. Just…the alcohol. I can--it's more potent after I focus on it. Something chemical happens to it. The taste is the same but the alcohol content is higher. It just makes people feel good, that's all. Keeps my customers coming back. They get a better buzz without having to actually drink more. That's all, I swear."

"That's what it does to humans," Erik growled. Clearly it was more like slipping a drug to a mutant. Erik rubbed his mouth and looked at Charles. If he was having a little trouble controlling his power on half a drink, and if the increasing level of amorous behavior at the bar was any indication, then Charles was projecting his own mood and didn't even know it.

"Right. Here, this is where you can reach me," Erik said, pulling out a card. He felt ridiculous even trying to give Charles's 'you're not alone' speech, so he didn't. "Just know that there are others out there like you, if you want to talk. That's for the drinks. Goodnight."

Charles had somehow gotten sucked deeper into the crowd and was slowly gyrating with a loose group of men and women, so it took Erik longer to get to him than he would have liked.

"Erik!" Charles greeted, giving him a warm smile. "There you are. Come, meet my friends."

"We don't have time for that," Erik said. "Come on."

"It's early still," Charles protested.

Erik tugged him close so he could whisper urgently in his ear. "You're _projecting_ , can't you feel it? Look around the room. The bartender is a mutant, and he's been chemically altering the drinks. You can't trust your own control right now. So, let's. Go."

"Oh," Charles murmured. He looked around the bar and instantly saw what Erik meant. "Yes. We should go. Please excuse us," he said to the group around him, but they barely noticed. He let Erik take him by the elbow and guide him toward the exit.

"Do you have any control at all right now?" Erik asked quietly.

Charles frowned. "Some. Not a lot. Erik, I'm so sorry."

"Shh. It's not your fault," Erik answered, moving them toward the door as fast as he could without simply yanking people out of his way. "I can't even really blame the bartender."

"That's not what I mean. I'm afraid it might be something of a long night for you alone with me if I can't find some control. If you wanted to leave me in the hotel and find somewhere else to stay, I wouldn't blame you."

"Don't be ridiculous, Charles. I'm not leaving you alone to deal with this," Erik said. He breathed a sigh of relief when they finally hit the blissfully cool air outside the bar.

Charles leaned more heavily against him, exhausted with the effort of having to force some kind of control over himself. "I'm going to be projecting at you all night. It'd be better for you if you left."

"I'm not leaving you and that's final," Erik said. The hotel was a short walk from the bar and Erik couldn't have been more glad to see it come into view. His only thought was to get Charles somewhere safe. He nearly dragged Charles up the stairs to their room, not bothering with using the key to unlock the door.

Charles staggered and nearly collapsed onto the nearest bed. "Thank you… I imagine the alcohol is taking full effect now."

"Do you have any idea how much you had?" Erik asked, filling a cup of water from the tap.

"A few, more than two," Charles said.

Erik nodded. "Here, drink this. We're going to have to try to flush the alcohol out of your system."

Charles reached for the glass and his fingers brushed against Erik's. He looked up, their eyes locking. Erik flushed and staggered backwards, nearly dropping the water in the process. Arousal, want, and need had flashed through him quickly with that brief contact, accompanied by a rapid succession of graphic erotic images.

"Holy shit," Erik murmured.

"I'm sorry," Charles said, taking the water and a long drink. "I warned you."

"You're not chasing me away that easily." Erik took a deep breath and steadied himself. He took a deliberate step toward the bed and then another before sitting down next to Charles, stroking a hand through Charles's hair and leaning forward to kiss him deeply.

Charles sank into the kiss for a moment and then shook his head. "Stop. I can't be sure this is what you really want."

"Believe me. I want this. You're projecting, not manipulating. Everyone in that bar was riding the crest of your desire. Your lust," Erik said, stroking his thumb against the pulse in Charles's neck. "I just didn't know that you were lusting after me."

"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," Charles murmured, dropping his gaze from Erik's. "All this time we've spent together, I never dared to hope that you'd be interested."

"You never gave me the chance to tell you one way or the other," Erik replied. He coaxed Charles's eyes back up to his face.

"Please, Erik," Charles murmured, gripping his shoulder. "I--I need--I can't--"

"It's okay. Just focus on me," Erik said, kissing him fervently and working the buttons on his shirt to get to his skin. The moment he touched Charles’s chest, waves of images and sensations and emotions swamped him again. He could feel his mind trying to sort it all out and struggling to keep up. The one thing he could comprehend was that everything, all that _feeling_ was about him. Charles was right: if he hadn’t wanted him before, he certainly would now. But if he didn’t do something to help Charles focus, he was fairly sure his brain would just give up and he’d pass out. Or worse.

“Show me,” Erik murmured against Charles’s lips once he’d defeated all of Charles’s clothes. “Show me your favorite fantasy and I’ll make it come true.”

“You--you don’t have to--” Charles protested weakly.

“Show me,” Erik demanded.

A single, coherent image coalesced in Erik’s mind of Charles stretched out on the bed, his wrists bound to the headboard with one of Erik’s ties. Charles’s arms were straining against the bonds as Erik drove hard and fast into him. Charles’s ass was warm against his skin.

“You want to be spanked and then tied to the headboard so I can fuck you within an inch of your life?” Erik confirmed, raising an eyebrow.

Charles blushed even as he squirmed involuntarily. He nodded.

Erik bit his lip as he started undressing. He’d thus far considered Charles to be something of a delicate creature: pale, soft, and academic. Now he was being forced to re-evaluate almost all of those assumptions. Charles was pale, yes, but his chest had taken on a deep flush with his uncontrolled arousal, and Charles was most definitely not soft. His chest and abdomen were firm, if not exactly well-muscled. And no, judging by what Charles wanted him to do, he was anything but delicate.

“Come here, then,” Erik commanded once he was naked. He shifted back on the bed to give Charles room to crawl over his lap, accepting the weight on his legs with a smile. He caressed Charles’s back, slick with sweat already. “How many do you think? Hmm? Ten? Twenty?”

Charles gulped. He could feel everything coming off of Erik. All the want and desire, the endless litany of _so beautiful god he’s so beautiful want him need him_ , all the little things he’d normally be able to block out effortlessly. At least focusing on him was giving him some kind of vague semblance of control. His defenses were completely gone and he was sure without Erik he’d be feeling everything from everyone within several blocks. But even with just Erik, it was difficult to concentrate on anything else, including speaking. “T-ten. Want--perfect. P-please.”

“Ten. I’ll count for you this time,” Erik purred, running his hand over Charles’s ass. “But next time, I expect you to do this for me.”

Charles lifted his head at that. _Next time?_

“Oh Charles, if you think after having you I’m ever letting you go again, then you are sadly, sadly mistaken.” He leaned down as close to Charles’s ear as he could get. “You’re mine now.” _All mine._

Erik lifted his hand and brought it down smartly against Charles’s left cheek, the slap resounding in the otherwise still room. “One,” he growled.

 _Erik!_ Charles gasped mentally. He shivered but offered his ass up for the next one.

Groaning at the sight Charles made, Erik landed the next smack and the next and the next, enjoying every one of Charles’s mental cries and the way he squirmed. After the tenth blow landed on Charles’s flesh, Erik slid his hand down between Charles’s legs, unsurprised to find him hard and leaking. “So good, Charles. Going to make this so good for you.”

Charles closed his eyes, nodded, and whimpered, beyond any kind of real response. He turned his head and looked up at Erik, begging him for the rest with his eyes and sending the image of the two of them together again.

Chuckling, Erik stroked his hand through Charles’s hair. “Patience. Soon. I’ll give you everything you need.”

He helped Charles get spread out on the bed, kissing him deeply and stroking his hands down his sides before grabbing a tie and binding Charles’s wrists to the headboard. A fresh wave of _Yes, finally, yes_ hit him and Erik smiled, glad he didn’t have to ask if the bindings were too tight.

One look at Charles and even if he hadn’t been projecting every ounce of his feelings at Erik it’d be easy to tell how close he was. Grateful to whomever decided to decorate the room with metal canisters, Erik summoned the hand lotion to him and made a mental note to be sure to get lube before the next stop. He kept the preparation to what he considered to be the minimum acceptable amount, not wanting to draw things out needlessly but not wanting to hurt Charles either.

 _Erik! Erik please please,_ Charles moaned in his head, tugging at the restraints.

“Easy,” Erik soothed. He kissed Charles as he slid inside him, moaning as all that tight warmth surrounded him. “Charles... fuck, you’re amazing,” he murmured, thrusting experimentally.

Among the waves of ecstasy that traveled from Charles was a single, urgent word. _Harder._

Bracing himself against the mattress, Erik pounded into Charles, helpless to do anything but ride the waves of feeling as they broke against him, completely unsure where he ended and Charles’s began. He had just enough presence of mind to wrap his hand around Charles’s cock and stroke in time with his thrusts.

Charles cried out, his orgasm taking him over completely as he shuddered under Erik’s body. Very dimly, he was aware of mutual pleasure and release coming off of Erik until his mind went blissfully, completely blank.

….

Charles rolled over and was immediately aware of two things: he had a pounding headache and he was entirely naked. Reflexively, he pulled the blankets tucked around him a little tighter. “Erik?” he groaned, opening his eyes and looking around.

“Here, Charles,” Erik said. He moved to perch on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through Charles’s hair even as he pushed a glass of water into his hand. “How do you feel?”

“Head hurts. Ta,” Charles said, sitting up and accepting the water. “But I at least seem to have things well under control again. How long was I out?”

“About 12 hours,” Erik said. “I’m actually surprised you weren’t out longer between the alcohol and all the mental strain.”

Charles smirked at him and blushed. “And the physical exertion, too.”

“You remember that, then?”

“I remember everything,” Charles said, meeting Erik’s eyes. “Every delicious moment.” He toyed idly with the glass in his hand and bit his bottom lip, but didn’t break eye contact.

Reaching out, Erik gently pried Charles’s lip from between his teeth and then kissed him deeply. “I’m glad. Though I might have privately been hoping that I would have to demonstrate how much I desire you all over again.”

“I wouldn’t mind being sober for your demonstration this time,” Charles commented. “But we really should speak with that bartender first.” He started to push himself out of the bed.

Erik gently pushed him back down. “I already spoke with him and as you might guess, he’s not terribly interested in joining the CIA. Right now, his gift is making him money and that’s all he wants.” Charles lifted an eyebrow at him. “I swear, I was perfectly charming and nonthreatening, even if he did drug you.”

“Inadvertently.”

“Recklessly,” Erik replied. “You should rest now.”

Deliberately, Charles placed the empty glass on the nightstand and then slid his hand over Erik’s. Those big blue eyes were pleading with him again. “I’ll rest better if  
you’re with me.”

“I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere. I told you, you’re mine now.” Erik pulled him into another kiss, pouring the full depth of his feeling into it and through them.

“You love me that much?” Charles asked, resting his forehead against Erik’s. Even with his defenses back in place, it would have been impossible to miss picking up on the full force of Erik’s emotions.

“Yes,” Erik replied. He stroked a thumb down Charles’s cheek. “Let’s rest now. And then you can show me your second favorite fantasy.”

Laughing, Charles tugged Erik down next to him and tucked his head against Erik’s shoulder. “An excellent plan, though I think food and a good clean up should also be somewhere in the order of things. And for the record? I love you, too.”

Erik pressed a kiss into Charles’s improbable mess of hair. “I know.”


End file.
